


Patching Up: A Functional Adjustments Story

by MissBrainProblems



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-26 02:20:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21366574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissBrainProblems/pseuds/MissBrainProblems
Summary: For years, Hannah has been trying to make her way into Danny's heart, to help the man she loves heal from wounds over a decade old. On a certain cold, December night, she might finally have the chance to do so.
Relationships: Hannah | Hana | Miss Militia/Danny Hebert
Kudos: 7





	Patching Up: A Functional Adjustments Story

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Functional Adjustments](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/532888) by Miss Brain Problems. 

> This is an extra story based on concepts I developed in "Functional Adjustments", a snippet where-in Danny loses both Annette and Taylor in 1998. That can be found at the following link, and I recommend reading it to have a greater overall context for the story:
> 
> https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/miss-brain-problems-collection-of-brain-problems-also-known-as-her-snippet-thread.800923/#post-62544505
> 
> I humbly appreciate everyone who has taken the time to read my story. Thank you all.

"Are you going to let me in, Danny?" The words that came out of Hannah's mouth - her breath steaming as it hit the cold December air - may have been phrased as a question, but they were more of a statement, an _order_ from the woman that was, technically, his superior officer. She had positioned herself so that she was actually standing between Danny and the front door of his house, watching him with an inscrutable look on her face. The message came across loud and clear: if the man wanted to be able to head into the warmth of his home, he would have to go through her, first.

Danny was a weak man, and that was a fact that he knew all too well; if thirteen years of ceaselessly mourning his wife and daughter wasn't evidence enough, the way that he felt all confidence in his body evaporate as he looked at Hannah offered up solid, insurmountable proof on the matter. He knew how much the woman hated being the one in charge, hated being the one to make the important decisions, hated being the one to shoulder responsibility, and yet there Hannah was, arms crossed, blocking his doorway, staring him down; she was in charge, she was the one making the decisions, and she was gladly accepting responsibility for whatever would happen next. As much as Hannah hated being all of those things, though, Danny hated himself even more, for convincing her that she had to turn herself into that sort of person; Danny hated himself for having been so stubborn and unreasonable over the past several years that Hannah felt the need to do those sort of things, to do all of those things that she hated doing so much.

Danny was a weak man, and he convinced himself that he had no choice, even though he knew that wasn't true; if he really, _really_ wanted to, he could reject her, he could tell her to leave, he could make her walk home in the snow... But he didn't want to. He didn't want to admit that he wanted to let Hannah in, that he wanted to hold her in his arms, that he wanted everything she had to offer him, and more; he didn't want to admit that he desperately, achingly wanted to move past Annette, move past Taylor, exorcise their ghosts and live free of the shadow that their deaths had cast over him for thirteen years. But he wanted that; Danny Hebert wanted all of that, and he wanted it _badly_.

"Sure. Come in, Hannah." The woman moved herself out of the way, allowing Danny access to the door and its lock; even as he slid the key in, Hannah's gaze never left his face, her eyes fiery, determined. As soon as the lock clicked, as soon as the door to his house popped open - the house that he had once shared with his wife and his daughter - Hannah pushed the entrance the rest of the way open. For a moment, the two of them stood there, Danny's heart going a mile a minute, as Hannah looked at him with... Hunger, passion, desire, and longing; she had him in her grasp at that point, and he knew that she was not about to let go.

He barely had time to pull the key out of the lock before Hannah shoved him into his own house; slamming the door behind them hard enough to make pictures on the wall rattle - pictures of Annette, of Taylor, they were watching him, watching Danny as he... - Hannah grabbed onto the collar of his jacket and shoved him against the wall of the entrance hallway, pushing her lips up against his ravenously. He didn't want to respond to her, didn't want to return the motion of her mouth opening up and darting her tongue forward, not with the way that so many reminders of his wife and daughter were strewn all around, not just the pictures, but the coat that still hung on the coat rack, the one she had forgotten when she went to pick up Taylor from daycare, and the coffee mug, the one that they had bought as a matching set, and... So many things, so many reminders, so many pieces of _guilt_ and _shame_ layering on him as Hannah continued to force her way forward. He didn't want to want her, but he _did_; he decided to deal with the consequences later.

He placed his hands on her hips, urging her closer to him, while he opened his mouth and let his own tongue out to meet and explore Hannah's own. No, she didn't taste like Annette at all; she didn't smell like her, she didn't feel like her, she didn't have curves in the same places, she wasn't like Annette in any single, solitary fashion. But God, that didn't seem to matter at that moment, not with the way that he felt himself barely able to breathe, not with the way that his body responded to her touch, to the way she moved against him, to everything that Hannah did. Having firmly secured Danny, the woman detached her hands from his collar, moving them upward to wrap around his shoulders and use his body as leverage to pull herself up tighter against him, pushing her mouth further into his, as if she was trying to devour him from the inside out. Danny hated the fact that he had forced Hannah to take the initiative, but he wasn't sure that he hated the way that she was so aggressive in this particular manner, the way that she wanted him so ferociously and let him _know_ how badly she wanted him, too.

"Bedroom." Hannah spoke the word breathlessly, hot onto Danny's ear. The man was slightly disappointed, as his hands had just begun to slink up under Hannah's coat to feel at the curves underneath the dress she had worn for that night; even so, he nodded in agreement, giving the woman one last hungry kiss before taking her hand and practically dashing up the stairs with her. Hannah had been to his house a few times before for Protectorate business, had even been into his bedroom once or twice to visit him while he was recovering from injuries... And maybe, just maybe, she had fantasized about doing those sort of things while she was there, had imagined what it would have been like to do what she had done in pushing Danny up against the wall and claiming him as hers once and for all; on that account, Danny couldn't be sure, but he knew at that moment that whatever fantasies Hannah may have had about him, it was clear that she was intending to fulfill _all_ of them that night.

Entering Danny's bedroom went about as gracefully as entering the house, with the door being banged half off its hinges as Hannah rushed ahead of him, tearing off her coat and throwing it to the floor as she spun around to greet him when he came in behind her; the woman was already on him as he began to work his own jacket off, the damned thing's buttons and zippers refusing to cooperate with his nervous, shaky fingers as he tried to undo them. Eventually, his top layer was off, and Hannah yanked on the necktie he had worn to pull him down on top of her as they fell to the bed. The bed that he and Annette had shared. The bed that he had held Taylor in. The bed that he had done those sort of things with Annette on. The bed that he could _swear_ still smelled like his wife and his daughter sometimes. And there, on the night stand, more photos of the three of them, as a family, as a happy, joyous family, before fickle, fickle fate took them from him.

He stopped. He had to stop. All thoughts of lust and desire were shoved out of his head as he stared at the pictures, regaining his breath with heavy pants. At first, Hannah gave him a concerned look, not sure why the man had stopped so suddenly, but when she followed his gaze, Danny saw her frown, in a thousand different swirling emotions. He hated himself. He hated himself for stopping. He hated himself for thinking about Annette and Taylor when Hannah was right there, in reality, alive, and with him. He hated himself for making Hannah frown like that, for making her experience those feelings, for... For everything. He hated himself for everything that he was doing.

"Danny?" He turned away from the photos, and looked down at Hannah; he didn't know when, but at some point, his eyes had begun to water, blurring his vision slightly. Even so, he could see the way that Hannah lay beneath him, swallowing hard before forcing a smile - he hated himself for making her force that smile - and reaching a hand up to brush his cheek as soothingly as she could. "We can stop, Danny. It's okay."

Why? Why was she giving up like that? She wanted him. She _had_ wanted him for _years_, and then she finally had him. And then, just like that, Hannah was willing to give him up? That wasn't the Hannah that he knew. Maybe the Hannah that he knew didn't like shouldering responsibility, but she was determined, ferocious, stubborn, and would fight like a lion for what she believed in, would fulfill her duty with all of her strength. So _why?_ And, more importantly, why had _he_ forced her to act like that? Why had _he_ forced her to give him up? It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to Hannah, and it wasn't fair to him.

Danny let his head rest down onto Hannah's chest, and he felt the way that lungs expanded and contracted with every breath of air she took in. "I... No, Hannah, I... I'm sorry. Give me a minute?" He felt Hannah's chin bump against the top of his head as she nodded, while he himself began to take deep breaths in an attempt to compose himself; he took one minute, then two minutes, then maybe three, or four, or even five, and yet Hannah patiently allowed him to lay there, letting him do whatever it was that he needed to do. Why did Hannah even feel the way that she did about him? He had been a complete emotional wreck for the entire time that she had known him, had hoisted leadership of the Brockton Bay Protectorate onto her, was nothing but a stubborn jackass that had either acted oblivious or outright rejected any romantic advancements she had made on him before. He didn't deserve her love, and for a second almost felt _angry_ that she wasted her feelings on a man like Danny Hebert.

He remembered something that the therapist had said to him, once, when they had been talking about the way that Hannah had feelings for him, and about how he felt like he wasn't worth those feelings; the therapist had bluntly told him that he had no right to believe that he knew best in terms of what Hannah should feel, and that only she had the right to decide who she loved, and that if she decided that she loved him, then he would just have to accept that. Danny had brushed that all aside at the moment, but then, in the situation that he was in, on his bed, with Hannah calmly, patiently lying beneath him, gently stroking his head, allowing him minutes on end to deal with all of his broiling emotions, his therapist's words came back to him. Hannah loved him, for whatever absurd, ridiculous reason, but Danny would just have to accept that. And, maybe, if he loved her, too, then... He pushed himself up so that he was looking down at her again, his breathing heavy as he did. "Hannah?" He tried to think of other words to say, but at that moment, the only thing he could think of was her name.

"Danny?" Hannah had an uncertain look on her face, not half as confident as she had been at the front door, not half as sure about what would come next as she had been when she pulled him down onto the bed, and Danny had caused that. Danny Hebert, that weak man, had neutered Hannah's confidence the moment he stared at the pictures on his nightstand, had made her feel like she would always be second to the memories of Annette and Taylor... And, maybe, in some ways, she would. Danny wasn't just going to forget all about his wife and daughter, wasn't just going to replace all of their memories and their photographs with ones of Hannah, and he knew that the woman herself would never ask that of him; maybe that, too, was one of the reasons that Danny felt like he could find himself falling in love with her, like how she loved him.

"Hannah." It was a statement, that time, followed by him pressing his lips down onto hers, placing his hands onto her body and just starting to explore it. Hannah reciprocated enthusiastically, moaning into his mouth passionately as her hands worked rapidly at the buttons on Danny's simple white dress shirt; Danny was past forty by that point, and his body had well begun to show signs of aging, but the body that Hannah revealed as she began to undress Danny had been toned by years of training with the PRT, even if it was older than most other Protectorate capes. As painful as it was, Danny removed his hands from on top of Hannah's still dress-covered breast - what wonderful sounds she had made when he touched her there - so that the woman could finish taking off his shirt, tossing the tie along with it, leaving him naked from the waist up. Maybe they should have kept undressing each other while they had the moment, but neither of them were young, impetuous teenagers, and they took the time to enjoy each other, enjoy each other's bodies, before the proverbial man course began.

The black dress that Hannah had worn wasn't scandalously short, but he could still hike it high enough to clasp onto an olive-skinned hip, squeezing down on it with appreciation for the curves that his lover had. His "lover", he had just thought of her as; not as Hannah, not as captain, not as ma'am, but as his lover. It was an odd feeling when he realized that, but not an entirely unwelcome one, either. Hannah's emotions obviously mirrored Danny's own as her hands began to roam around the man's back, grabbing onto muscles wherever she could while her mouth diverged from his to go to her lover's neck, instead; Hannah began placing kisses, suckles, licks, and even small bites along Danny's jawline, collarbones, and shoulder, that the man responded to with pleasured noises, letting Hannah know where he was particularly sensitive. A nibble onto his ear caused Danny to practically _growl_, which elicited a giggle from Hannah - God, what a sound, what a lovely, adorable little sound - and prompted her to continue her attentions on that part of the man's body.

There was only so much patience that either of them had, though, and eventually both of them felt the urge to continue onward, felt the _need_ to reach the next stage of their little tryst; Danny sent both of his hands up underneath Hannah's dress, grabbing onto the woman's underwear and beginning to slide it down her legs. He felt a temporary shame as they came into his vision, realizing that they were expensive-looking black lace that likely would have made Hannah look _ravishing_ if he saw it while she was still properly wearing it; wasting no time, though, he continued shimmying the piece of cloth down toward Hannah's feet, the woman herself lifting and adjusting her legs to help him along.

Danny took a moment, as he sat up on his knees, having freshly removed Hannah's lingerie, in order to look at the woman as she lay down on top of his bed; she was leaned back, one hand on her forehead as she swallowed, breathed hard, and waited for him to return to her grasp. Hannah's lovely, gorgeous skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, that glimmered slightly in the light of the streetlamp filtering in through his window; all that Danny could think of in that moment was not thoughts of Annette and Taylor, not thoughts of his long-dead wife and daughter, but only that Hannah, laying there next to him, was beautiful, absolutely beautiful. "Hannah." She looked at him, a slightly confused, slightly impatient look on her face. "You're beautiful." He had to tell her; there was no choice in the matter, he just had to.

He had seen Hannah blush before, but never like that, never that much; a chuckle elicited itself from his throat as he watched her cheeks flush red, before she kicked out at him in annoyance. "Sh... Shut up, Danny! And..." The redness on Hannah's face remained, but Danny could tell that the source of that particular color had changed. "...and get back here already."

"Yes, ma'am." Danny had a smile on his face - God, he had a _smile_ on his face, Danny was _smiling_ \- as he crawled back on top of her, pressing his lips to hers once again as he slid his hand under her dress once more, that time searching for the treasure that he had uncovered just a few moments prior. It had been thirteen years since he had done anything like what he was doing with Hannah, but it was hard to forget, hard to forget where things were, and hard to forget what to do to them; the woman breathing in a sharp intake of breath let him know that he had found the spot before the feeling of wetness on his fingers did. Danny began to tease Hannah slowly, taking delight in the knowledge that he, a forty something year old widower, had made a woman like Hannah that aroused; for her part, his lover grabbed onto his shoulders, squeezing down on them tightly as his stimulations forced moans and gasps out of her.

"Danny... Mmm! Right... Yeah, right there, Danny, that's...! Mmn!" Annette hadn't been Danny's first lover, and so he knew that some women had difficulty communicating with their partners during intimate moments; he was thus very, _very_ please to find that Hannah was more than happy to let him know where her more sensitive spots were, and he was additionally more than happy to focus on those areas. "Danny... Just like... Hmn!" The way that she panted his name into his ear, the way that she wrapped her arms around his back and squeezed him close against her body drove him wild, drove him even _more_ wild than she had already been driving him; he could feel his arousal straining against the inside of his pants, and he wasn't sure how much more he could take before-

"Shit." Danny's eyes went wide as he remembered something. Hannah looked at him, concern apparent on her face; returning the gaze, Danny said simply: "I don't have any condoms."

Hannah, in turn, simply changed her expression of concern into a grin. "Danny. I've been on birth control for months now." The look on Danny's face made his confusion clear, and she added: "I've been on birth control for months to get ready for _this_, whenever it happened." The smirk on Hannah's face grew wider, and her eyebrows rose in a teasing expression.

He had to take another moment to process everything he had just heard. Hannah had been on birth control? She had been on birth control for _him_? She had been taking birth control just to prepare for whenever she had the chance to finally do this? It made his head spin, but he did his best to remain steady, not straying from the point. "Okay. You're on birth control. But that's not one hundred percent, right, there could still be-"

The hand that Hannah shot down to his pants in order to grope at the bulge that grew at the front of his pants, and the sudden motion stopped his words in his tracks. "Danny." She pressed her lips to his, kissing him softly, a stark contrast to the way that she rubbed his manhood through only a few layers of cloth. "We're adults. We can handle it like adults if something happens, okay?" He felt her hands undo the button of his slacks, and then the zipper, providing access to what lay beneath. "So stop worrying about it, Danny." As Hannah moved her mouth up to his ear, her hand slunk down underneath Danny's boxers, grabbing at his hard, erect shaft directly. "And just _fuck me_ already."

Hannah had just said that. Responsible, mature, dutiful, righteous, heroic Hannah. She was so desperate for him, so hungry for him, so ferociously voracious for him that Hannah, _Miss Militia_, had just told Danny Hebert to _fuck _her. The way that such a crude phrase came hot out of Hannah's mouth pushed Danny over the edge. There was no time for the two of them to finish undressing, not at that point. His pants could stay on, he just needed them low enough to maneuver himself around freely; her dress didn't need to go, either, since he could hike it up high enough, and she looked _ravishing_ in it, anyway. As he roughly, gracelessly handled Hannah's body - her beautiful, gorgeous body - the woman returned his passion by continuing to offer kisses and suckles onto Danny's neck, leaving marks that he'd have to figure out some way to cover up the next day; he didn't mind, though, not with how stiff all of her ministrations were causing him to get, not with how _hot _he was getting with the way that she was touching him. A little bit more fumbling, a little bit more lifting of Hannah's dress, and he had the tip of his manhood pressed against his lover's warm, wet, _waiting_ sex. Danny stopped for a moment, looking down to Hannah for one last bit of permission; the woman simply shook her head, a look of disbelief on her face that he even felt the need to ask her, before she silently mouthed out: "Yes."

His lover was aroused enough that he was able to push himself all the way into the hilt with the first thrust; Hannah and Danny both let out a moan as he slid into her, his moderately sized manhood still filling her up in a satisfying way. For a moment, the two lovers allowed themselves to lie there, their arms wrapped around each other, their bodies warm against one another; they kissed, softly, as they took the time to cherish the moment of being connected in the most intimate way, but then kissed roughly, feverishly, as their bodies began to move. Maybe Danny _was_ a bit rusty when it came to that sort of thing, and maybe his movements weren't as smooth or as stimulating as he would have hoped that they would have been, but for how his skills had deteriorated over the years, Danny would make sure to make up for in _passion _and _attention_. His hips bucked down into hers, not hard enough to be painful, but powerful enough to make sure that he slammed home; he found the parts that made Hannah squirm and squeal the most, and directed himself at those areas, doing his best to make sure that his manhood poked and scraped there with each thrust. The sweat that he had seen on Hannah's body before began to form rivulets at that point, and he bent down to _lick_ a droplet off of her neck, causing the woman to moan loudly at the sensation.

God, but she was beautiful; the way that her eyes rapidly shifted between being unfocused and focused directly on him, the way she squinted her brows each time he hit a sensitive spot, the way that her head flopped left and right on the pillow when he went at a particularly vigorous pace, the way that her mouth formed a vague circle shape if he managed to get in deep. How had he never noticed how beautiful she was before that point? Had the ghosts of Annette and Taylor really blinded him that much? Or had he always known how beautiful Hannah was, and had just refused to admit it to himself? Her skin, her eyes, her hair, her everything... No, she wasn't like Annette, she wasn't like Annette in any single, solitary way. But, at that moment, Danny was okay with that. She didn't need to be Annette. She was Hannah, and that was all that she needed to be.

"Danny...! Hah!" He felt her squeeze down on him rhythmically, doing her best to provide him with stimulation and pleasure each time he thrust into her body; Danny felt that it wouldn't be good for only her to be going the extra mile, so he snaked a hand down her body, trailing between her thighs until he found the part where the two of them were connected, and then the little nub of nerves that sat directly above. "D... Danny!" His attention drew immediate results, and he couldn't help but smile as he watched the way that she writhed underneath him. It was, unfortunately, a tad bit awkward for him to try and penetrate her with his arm positioned as such, and his pelvic movements began to slow down as he attempted to simultaneously stimulate that little pleasure button of hers. "Danny, it..." Hannah's hands grabbed onto the arm that had been touching her down there, and moved it away; he looked up at her face with worry, concerned that he might have done something horribly wrong, but she simply smiled graciously at him. "Danny, it's fine. I already feel good. Thank you, though. You're so sweet."

Danny smiled awkwardly at Hannah, and nodded a bit slowly before responding quietly. "Alright." The man leaned down toward his lover again, trying not to focus too much on how he had caused a futz in the middle of what was supposed to be passionate, romantic love-making; once his lips reached hers once more, though, all those worries evaporated, as he breathlessly whispered her name. "Hannah..." His thrusts began again, even more earnestly than before, eager to make up for his mistake.

"Danny..." Unknowable sweaty, lustful, heady minutes passed as the two lovers pressed their bodies against one another, their hands and mouths and lips and teeth and tongues and fingers exploring and squeezing and grabbing and groping and caressing. Names were moaned, names were whispered, names were screamed. A dress was ruined, but neither of them cared, neither had time to care. New spots were found that each used to make the other react, to make the other squirm and writhe and gasp and hiss. Hannah orgasmed once, quietly, and then again, loudly, her body shaking and shuddering as Danny continued his attentions to make sure that she was driven to even further heights, to make sure that his lover enjoyed herself even more.

"Hannah, I... Mrngh...!" Nothing could last forever, though, and the way that his lover did her best to wrap herself around him was driving Danny to the edge. He felt his own orgasm approaching, felt an ejaculation building up. The man's thoughts fired rapidly. No condom. Birth control. Pregnancy risk. Inside? Outside? He didn't know. He couldn't make the decision. He wasn't in charge. He...

"Danny..." He hated himself, as he looked down at Hannah, knowing that he had once again forced her into shouldering responsibility; his self-loathing vanished in an instant, though, as she saw the look in Hannah's eyes, an expression of sheer love, sheer happiness, sheer joy. "It's... Mmh! It's okay, Danny. You can... Hnmh! You can do it inside, Danny. Just..." His lover wrapped her arms around him again, and then her legs, locking him inside of her. "Don't... Don't let go of me, Danny. Please, don't ever let go."

He didn't have time to respond, not with hearing her say those words, not with the way that she embraced him. "Haah... Haah... Hannah... Haah...!" Pants, heavy, breathless, as his thrusts intensified, became pointless, no longer seeking to stimulate his lover's most sensitive areas, but just became reflexive, instinctive motions as his body pushed him toward orgasm. "Han... Hannah... I... Hrngk!" A grunt, as he hilted inside of his partner, his head filling with a climax of pleasure as his ejaculation squirted out inside of the woman's body. It was irresponsible, Danny knew, but as Hannah said, they were both adults, and they would be able to handle whatever happened, if it did. After several seconds of orgasm, Danny let out a sigh, and collapsed down onto Hannah, whispering her name with a tint of exhaustion. "Hannah... My God, Hannah..." He delivered a kiss to her cheek, which she returned by tilting her face to the side and pressing her lips against his; they both smiled into the kiss, basking in their respective afterglows.

Regretfully, they detached from one another, Hannah using Danny's shower first to clean up, followed by the man himself; considering that the woman's dress had been repeatedly torn in the midst of their love-making - and considering that a dress wasn't exactly good sleepwear, anyway - Danny found some pajamas of his that Hannah didn't find too horribly tacky, but that still were several sizes too large for her. As much of a cliche as it might have been, though, Danny found himself absolutely smitten with how adorable Hannah looked in his clothes, and the woman herself didn't seem to mind, too much.

They hadn't even talked about it, but there had been some unspoken agreement made at some point that Hannah would be staying the night; she wouldn't be _sleeping_, of course, given her peculiar condition, but she would be staying the night. She would be staying the night, in the Hebert household, in the Hebert bed, wearing Hebert clothes. As the two of them crawled under the covers, cuddling up close to one another with chaste embraces and kisses, Danny's eyes fell on a photograph. Him, Annette, and their infant daughter, happy, smiling; for once, Danny didn't feel any guilt, didn't feel any shame, didn't feel any grief, didn't feel any despair, and he was fairly certain the he knew why. He looked away from the picture, and down instead at Hannah, where the woman was was nuzzling in against his chest, a content, angelic expression on her face; with a smile of his own, Danny Hebert kissed the top of Hannah's head, and closed his eyes.

He dreamt, that night, dreamt of Annette and Taylor. Over the thirteen years since their death, Danny had dreamt of them plenty, of course, but none of the dreams were ever any good; at best, he would wake up from those dreams feeling drained, and at worst, he would wake up from them feeling completely, utterly crushed. In his dreams that night, though, Danny saw Annette and Taylor once again, and found that they were smiling. His precious, precious wife and his precious, precious daughter were actually, genuinely smiling; and for some reason that Danny didn't quite understand, he knew that they were smiling for him.


End file.
